


A Love Story in 5 Scenes

by lanapanda



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-01
Updated: 2014-09-01
Packaged: 2019-01-31 06:26:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12676230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lanapanda/pseuds/lanapanda
Summary: Sam and Steve fill in each other's blank spaces, but that doesn't mean the old wounds are gone.





	A Love Story in 5 Scenes

***** 1 ******

The first six months were the hardest but also the best, because sometimes Sam would forget. “Hey Riley, check this out” was so much a part of how Sam greeted anything new or novel or weird or fucked up, that he actually said it out loud to an empty room on more than one occasion. And every time reality would catch up just a half-second too late, and the grief and regret would twist at the pit of his stomach and send a sharp pain through his heart.

Some people called that particular flavor of grief “survivor’s guilt” but Sam knew better. He’d done a lot of reading up on neuroscience when he was first training with the Exo — more than was strictly necessary. So Sam knew that the brain creates neural pathways for everything, but in particular it creates intricate networks for people and relationships that matter. Riley was still alive to all those pathways in Sam’s mind. Riley’s smile, his voice, the stupid hiccups he got whenever he was drunk (just like a goddamned cartoon character)the bear hugs and the betting on opposite teams for the Super Bowl to see who would have to detail the Exos — the fact that none of those things would ever happen again hadn’t yet registered to the involuntary biological processes that made up Sam’s thoughts.

Sam held onto the pain because once it faded, he knew it would mean that his mind was letting go of his best friend on a chemical level. Something he couldn’t reach or touch or reason with. And there was no guilt in wanting to hang on, just a little longer, to think of Riley like he was still right there instead of just a collection of memories, photographs, and a pair of service pistols with the grips worn smooth at the edges.

***** 2 ******

At first, Steve had dreaded going to sleep and it wasn’t because of nightmares. At night he went dancing with Peggy and the scent of her perfume lingered after he walked her home. At night he laughed with Bucky beside him at a campfire and watched the sun rise. At night he practiced his French and traced the lines of the Eiffel Tower on the faded pages of an old sketch pad. The world as he knew it before existed so vividly in his dreams that waking up to an empty studio apartment was a knife in the chest. Every time.

So Steve avoided sleep unless he was exhausted, because that was easier than dreaming and waking and losing them every morning. It was almost a relief when months later, the nightmares finally came.

****** 3 *****

“Why do you always do that?”

“Do what?” Sam quirked an eyebrow at Steve as he pushed a cart of groceries to the car. By now this was a weekly ritual, as Steve could be relied upon to feed himself, but not to do actual shopping to get food into his apartment.

“Hold onto the receipt until we’re at the car.” Steve helped load up the groceries. He’d long since given up trying to convince Sam that he didn’t need to do this. Their friendship had been built upon filling in the blank spaces that the other was missing, and grocery shopping was definitely one of Steve’s blank spaces. “You never put it in your pocket until we’re driving off.”

“Huh? Oh. Old habit. I guess I don’t have to when you’re around,” Sam shrugged and tucked the receipt away before passing Steve a gallon of milk.

“Old habit?”

“Yeah, just in case they decide to trigger the alarm, or one of the security guys wants to claim they saw me shoplifting, I’ve got the receipt in my hand. The camera up there will pick it up,” Sam nodded in the direction of a security camera up high on one of the parking lot light posts, then tucked a big bag of veggies into the trunk.

Steve blinked. “Does that really happen?”

“Twice last year.”

“… We’re shopping at the Farmer’s Market from now on.”

Sam laughed and shut the trunk, “Steve. We’d have to grow our own if you’re trying to insulate me from casual racism.”

~~~~~~

The next morning Steve was on the roof of his apartment building bright and early, a copy of  _Urban Rooftop Gardening_  tucked under one arm.

****** 4 ******

“Are you kidding me? It’s pouring down rain.”

“I know,” Steve said with a grin. He jogged on.

“I swear I’m going back to the car and leaving your ass right here,” Sam kept up, because for once Steve was going at ‘normal fit-person speed’ instead of ‘perfect physical specimen x 100,000’ speed.

“No you won’t.”

“Do you know why I won’t?” Sam asked, lifting his shirt to wipe the rain from his face.

“Your undying commitment to fitness?”

“My unending curiosity about where you’re going… and the fact that you have the car keys.”

“I’m pretty much where I planned to be,” Steve said. He had the good graces to look a little sheepish as he stopped and looked around.

“But there’s nothing out here.”

“Well… there’s us. And the rain’s coming down pretty hard, so it’ll wash out all the sound if anyone’s trying to record us. No clear visual with all the trees around, so…”

“Sooo…?” Sam shook his head a little. “You came out here to tell me a secret?”

“Kinda,” Steve rubbed the back of his head. “I came out here to ask you to go out with me. On a date. If that’s not something you’re interested in, w-”

The rain faded back to a whisper of sound barely heard over his own heartbeat and Steve ran a hand over the short waves of Sam’s hair as they kissed.

****** 5 ******

“I can’t keep doing this,” Steve’s shoulders trembled and he clenched his jaw to keep from slamming his fist against the counter in frustration.

“Yeah you can,” Sam said, quiet and serious as his hand traced a line from the back of Steve’s neck to the base of his spine and up again.

“If he hurts you —”

“He’s trying not to.”

“Is that supposed to make me feel  _better_? How can you keep this up, every day… that’s twice this week that he’s almost…”

“Shhhh. If he wanted me dead, I’d be dead. He’s working things through. C’mon, I’ll let you go talk to him, then I’ll get his meds and you can bring dinner.”

“I don’t know how you can be so nice about this. I thought I could handle taking care of him myself, but —” Steve cut himself off, took a deep breath and then sighed.

“Hey. C’mere.” Sam didn’t give Steve a choice - he hooked a finger into the collar of Steve’s shirt and tugged him over for a kiss. “He’s your friend. We’ll get through it. You want to know how I deal?” Sam paused and then gave a faint smile when Steve nodded. “… I pretend he’s Riley.”

Steve gathered Sam into a fierce hug, eyes shut tight.

Ten heartbeats later, Steve found himself at the door to the guest room. “Hey Buck? Think you could let me have that knife? It’s almost dinner time…”


End file.
